Cthulhu Gonfalon

Chapter 481: Chapter 21

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Similar to that on the earth, all countries in this world attached great importance to intelligence work.

For example, there was a group of scouts called the Eyes of Sky in the Eagle Kingdom and the Duchy of Griffon. These scouts were able to ride demon beasts that could fly in the sky and conceal their figures and breaths with magic. They always hid between the clouds so as to spy on other countries' situation.

While in the Mifata Federation, there was a giant, magic pond, and countless mages temporarily stored their magic power inside it for future use. The government of the federation could use the great amount of magic power in the pond to cast extremely high-level spells so as to collect secret intelligence that was impossible to get through normal channels.

As for the Commonwealth of Gold Coins, they preferred to enlarge their channel widely by gathering intelligence from all the merchants and vendors, and then a group of smart and capable intelligence officers had to read plenty of information every day to sort out what they needed from countless fragments of words.

The Republic of Northwest was just founded, and its intelligence services were limited in manpower and resources. Therefore, they had to make up the shortage of resources with high-quality intelligence. With little manpower, they had to ignore those simple things and invest the limited manpower into important things.

For example, the one that took Wood's information away from the spies and sent it back later was Clito, the deputy director of the Fishing and Hunting Resources Investigation Office of the Ministry of Agriculture of the Republic of Northwest. Clito didn't want to do this job because it was out of his realm. However, he was somewhat obedient to his wife, so when his wife stared at him, he immediately agreed and left, murmuring, "You have to pay me for overtime."

Clito was a legendary master now. He had been able to marry the daughter of a marquis without her parents' permission and take her away when his power had been at the mid-level, so now it was a piece of cake for him to do this job. Although he was unwilling, he completed the mission very well without anyone's attention.

About two months later, the officials in the Federal Intelligence Service of Mifata Federation received Wood's intelligence.

For intelligence work, it was amazingly slow to deliver the information in two months. In this field, magic communication was used in most cases. Although it was expensive and inefficient, it was faster.

Fast, that was enough.

Intelligence was all about accuracy, secrecy, and speed. The first two might depend on luck. Even if the best intelligence personnel were sent out, they couldn't make sure that the intelligence they finally got was accurate and secret. Only the speed could be guaranteed since what it required was money.

Other countries might have a headache in finding a group of high- and middle-ranking mages willing to serve them, but things were different for the Mifata Federation. It was the holy land of magic in the whole Main Plane! Would there be a shortage of mages here?

Since they had enough manpower, the only problem that remained was money. But would money be a problem for such a big country?

Therefore, the intelligence work of the Mifata Federation had always been the best. Even if something happened on other planes, as long as it had a close relationship with the Mifata Federation, the intelligence would be sent to the intelligence agencies for reference and research within a day or two after it happened.

However, no matter how rich the Mifata Federation was, people there didn't like to spend money on useless things. Thus, only valuable and important information could be delivered. This kind of information was always delivered by magic and had to be sent back to the federation as soon as possible.

Wood's intelligence was initially able to enjoy this treatment, especially when he found the defense map of Pyroxene Town. That time, his intelligence had made his superiors very satisfied, and he had been praised for that as well.

But his good treatment didn't last long. As time passed by, there was less and less valuable information from Wood, so his treatment was getting worse and worse. Now, the intelligence he sent out was labeled as the least urgent. It was delivered through the same channel as civilian information, and the only difference was that his information had to be delivered secretly.

Wood knew nothing about that. He only knew that his country needed him to lurk in the central area of other countries to constantly collect all kinds of information and send them back. Perhaps, he had to stay here for his whole life; perhaps he had to be ready to fight when it was necessary. In short, he was a pin on the machine of the vast Mifata Federation. No, he was far less important. He was probably just a handful of soil in the farmland or a glass of water in the pond, that was all.

But even if he was just like a handful of soil or a glass of water, he was very conscientious in fulfilling his duty and dared not to be careless even once.

Unfortunately, his superiors did not think so.

"These worthless things again… Wood, that fellow seems to have something else on his mind." It took the director of the intelligence service about half a minute to read Wood's information, even faster than Felix did. Then he frowned, tapped his finger on the table and began to think about what to do next.

After a while, he made up his mind and asked the herald to issue an order.

Within three minutes, a very ordinary looking middle-aged man, who was like a drop of water in the sea when he walked on the street among the crowd, walked in.

"There's something wrong with the spy No. 97," the director said. "Get ready for the replacement program."

The middle-aged man tried to recall who this spy was, and a moment later, he remembered the identity and duty of No. 97. He said with a frown, "He has taken root in the Republic of Northwest, and it is hopeful for him to get into the upper class in the future. It's a pity to replace him now."

The director shook his head and said, "He is not loyal to us anymore. He hasn't sent back a valuable piece of information in the past three years."

"Maybe it's just because he's cautious?" the middle-aged man said. "At that time, in order to complete his mission successfully, he even completely gave up his high-level power. Would such a man betray us? It's unlikely for him to do that."

"That's what you say, but the fact is that he's changed his mind." Instead of explaining his meaning in detail, the director waved his hand and said, "Get ready for it. We have to keep that information station."

The middle-aged man was speechless for a moment, and then he left with a sigh.

It was a soldier's duty to obey the commander's order, even if he disagreed with it and thought it was ridiculous. He had made his suggestion, and it was not taken. Then there was nothing that he could do.

After returning to his room, this middle-aged man was silent for a long time before he said to his assistant, "Are there any female spies with certain artistic knowledge recently? I need one that is able to perform a long-term task, and she can't be too old or too young."

His assistant thought for a moment and wrote down several names.

"Arrange a special training in sculpture for them, and search for the detailed information of spy No. 97," the middle-aged man said. "After training, choose the one that has the most stable performance to disguise as No. 97's wife, and send her to Pyroxene Town."

The assistant nodded and wrote it down, then asked casually, "Do you need it done urgently?"

"No." After several thoughts, the middle-aged man showed something different in his eyes. "The training should be more detailed and reliable, and no mistakes will be allowed. This spy is to replace No. 97, so the training has to be at a high standard."

The assistant immediately understood that, and he smiled slightly, nodded and left.

After he left, the middle-aged man thought carefully for a while, shook his head and frowned tightly.

"How can this be?" He muttered, "This is totally unreasonable…"

…

At this moment, there came a magician in a black robe to the director's office.

"There's something wrong with one of my spies," the director said indifferently. "I'm going to send someone to replace him, so you have to prepare for it well. By then, I'm going to make him die as if he drank too much. You have to make sure no one finds the truth."

The magician in a black robe did not say anything; he nodded silently.

"What a pity! If I had known that he was unreliable, I would have fed him to a witch. Maybe he can help cultivate a witch for us," the director said with some regret, and then started another topic. "How many witches are available at present?"

"Six," the magician answered with his old, hoarse and weak voice.

"That's too little!"

"It is troublesome to cultivate a witch, while it is easy to lose one."

"That's right. Because the witch works very well." The intelligence director smiled, but there was nothing good in that smile. "Speed up the training."

"It is difficult to obtain the materials needed to cultivate a witch because it needs authorization."

The director sneered. "It's useless to talk about that. I can't give you this authorization. You need materials? Find them your own way! I won't give you any promises. On the contrary, if something goes wrong, I won't admit it or take responsibility, either. Do you think that I don't know about you evil magic researchers? You just want me to take responsibility for you in various ways! Don't even think about it!" The director's face turned as cold as ice. "No.97 is much better than you both in seniority and power, but I can replace him whenever it is necessary. It's the same for you."

The magician didn't say anything again.

"Get ready. I'll let you know when I need you." The director waved his hand as if he were driving flies away. "Don't try to fight for anything. If there is something good available for you, I'll give it to you naturally. Now you are a soldier, not a businessman, so don't bargain with me—this is my last reminder, do you understand?"

The magician didn't reply. He bowed his head to say goodbye, turned away and left.

After he left, the director began to tap his finger on the desktop slightly again and got lost in his thoughts.

This time, he was thinking about other issues, as for the spy named Wood… A useless spy was no longer worth even a second from him.

Wood had no idea that his fate was being determined by several conversations in an office thousands of miles away.